Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Better In Your Head?--HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISONER OF AZKABAN

1999
J.K. Rowling


SPOILER ALERT, I'm still hung up on that sentence.

Teenagers do crazy crap: alcohol poisoning, joy riding, backyard wrestling. (Adults do all that too, but adolescents get a pass when they indulge. Rites of passage and all that.) Harry Potter is about to turn thirteen, so how does he celebrate? Break into Uncle Vernon's liquor cabinet, which is actually full of pastries? Draw a wang on Dudley's forehead as the fat boy dreams of his father's liquor cabinet? No, he just inflates a woman who insults his dead parents. Really should have landed ol' Harry in a heap o' trouble, but lady luck planted a big wet one on his bolt-bearing brow: notorious mass murderer Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban, the wizard prison, and has his sinister sights on the Boy Who Lived.

An open door indicates a locked window though, meaning Harry will not be able to join the other third years in visiting the village of Hogsmeade, which features many awesome shops and an allegedly haunted building known as The Shrieking Shack. Ron and Hermione are bummed their pal won't be able to join them, but absolutely terrified that he's in a homicidal maniac's cross hairs. Harry seems fairly chill about the whole thing.

Hermione has a new pet, a part-Kneazle, part-cat named Crookshanks. He's all ginger fur, and orange eyes set deep into a smushed face. Ron still has the same animal companion from year one, Scabbers the rat, and wooo do he and Crookshanks not get along. (Are you following this? These are not bread crumbs, these are croutons.)

There's a third animal in their train compartment, a shabby guy who turns out to be new Defense of the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin. He's asleep much of the journey, but the kids resist the urge to draw wangs on him. Lupin awakens when the train stops to permit Dementors on board. The guards of Azkaban, Dementors are "soulless creatures" in hoods, who gradually sap all the happiness and good sense from a person. They're checking the Hogwarts Express for Sirius Black, and have also been assigned to Hogwarts itself until Black is captured. Harry faints dead away in their presence, causing Lupin to whip out his wand and recite a spell none of the children recognize, which repels the Dementors.

The curse of the DADA teacher seems broken; Lupin is not only an affable if scruffy sort, he makes class fun, despite the dire subject matter. Certainly preferable to Divination, where Professor Trelawney predicts an early death for Harry in front of the entire class (really, that's the sort of news you want to break to a student one-on-one, after the bell).

Hagrid's stint teaching Care of Magical Creatures is short-lived, once the hippogriff Buckbeak earns itself a death sentence by attacking Draco Malfoy. .

Fred and George Weasley find a magical map and--blessedly, inexplicably--hand it over to Harry. Using it, and the Invisibility Cloak, he sneaks into Hogsmeade and meets up with Ron and Hermione at the the Three Broomsticks Inn, where they knock back some butterbeers (a slightly alcoholic beverage made of water, sugar and butter) and overhear Hogwarts staff talking with the Minister of Magic about Sirius Black. Harry learns that Sirius was a dear friend of his parents, so dear that the Potters named him godfather to their only child. Then, he betrayed them to Lord Voldemort.

After another encounter with the Dementors makes Harry do the rock lobster, Lupin teaches him the Patronus charm. Created by a happy memory felt intensely, a Patronus is a shield that appears in the form of whatever animal the caster feels the closest affinity with. It's not a snap to learn, and Harry naturally struggles.

The fear of Sirius Black pervades Hogwarts. When Harry receives a mystery Christmas present (again), Hermione suspects sabotage. When the gift turns out to be a coveted Firebolt broom, she takes her concerns to Professor McGonagall, who confiscates the 'Bolt. Hermione's status as persona non grata to her two closest friends is cemented upon the disappearance of Scabbers, which Ron blames on Crookshanks. Eventually the three reunite to help Hagrid earn Buckbeak a reprieve from the executioner's blade. Their efforts fail, but the unjust death of a part-eagle/part-horse rapidly becomes the least of their concerns.

Hagrid asked the kids to stay away, as they shouldn't have to witness a freakish beast being decapitated, but their good hearts wouldn't stop them from providing moral support. Their visit proves especially fortuitous when Hermione catches Scabbers scurrying around the hut. Ron's understandably relieved--and remorseful--yet his rat goes rogue once more. Ron gives chase, Harry and Hermione close behind. Just as Ron snatches Scabbers near the Whomping Willow, a black dog lunges towards Ron, breaking his ankle and dragging him into the secret passage at the base of the tree. This hidden tunnel leads to the infamous Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade.

The Shack is a hidey-hole for Professor Lupin, who's in for the shock of his adult life when the vicious black dog transforms into Sirius Black. Once Harry and Hermione arrive, backstory time begins!

Remus Lupin was bitten by a werewolf when young, dooming him to the pull of the full moon. His buddies James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew (AKA, "The Marauders") all became animagi in a show of solidarity. James could become a stag, Sirius a dog, and Peter…a rat. That's right; Hermione's pet vs. Ron's pet represented more than just simmering concupiscence. They further explain that Peter, not Sirius, betrayed the Potters to Lord Voldemort and framed Sirius for murder.

Sufferin' succotash! Severus Snape in the Shrieking Shack! Showdown! Until three teenagers knock him unconscious. Wow, that was unexpected. And embarrassing. Remus forces Peter to assume his human form, but Harry saves the traitors life, believing that a lifetime in Azkaban would be the most fitting fate.

Step outside guys, it's a full moon! Ah bugger. The ensuing clusterbomb of transmogrifying that ensues allows Peter to escape, while Dementors approach. Before Harry loses consciousness, he sees someone in the distance who looks very much like his late father casting a Patronus.

Recovering in the hospital wing, Harry learns Sirius is to receive the Dementor's Kiss--literally, a soul-sucking smooch. Dumbledore advises he and Hermione should use this little doohickey called a Time Turner to save not only Sirius, but Buckbeak as well.

They do. Everyone's happy again! Well, 'cept Lupin. Mindful of the uproar from parents not open to a werewolf teaching their children, he's little choice but to resign. Also Ron's pretty bummed his beloved pet was a treacherous asshole who set up his best friend's parents to be murdered.

Prisoner of Azkaban is the last of the Harry Potter novels that can be described accurately as a "brisk read," although the plot is more loaded than Rocky Road ice cream, and equally likely to induce a headache.

Worth it, though. The twists and turns are well-done, and with every damn one of these books the author debuts something splendid that I wish had come from my mind: in this case, Dementors. They're essentially Grim Reapers who bring not death, but a mental deterioration arguably worse than the cessation of life.

Also, butterbeer. The name itself smells like money. And diabetes.

Won't lie, though, Rowling lost me with that Time Turner jazz. Temporal futzery normally sets me purring, but she did not do it justice. Why wouldn't Dumbledore suggest use of a Time Turner to go back and stop Tom Riddle? Are there limits? If so, what are those limits? The reader doesn't need to know every little thing, but we do need to know enough.

Engorgio!





2004
Director-Alfonso Cuaron
Writer-Steve Kloves


Claiming burnout, Chris Columbus stepped down from the directors chair (which I'm assuming was on a platform). The other two Americans stayed on board, with John Williams earning Oscar nomination 43.

Alfonso Cuaron, nine years away from becoming the first Latin American to win the Best Director Oscar, proved the right visionary at the right time. The Hogwarts we see in Prisoner of Azkabana is of exhilarating expanse. The action actually goes outdoors whilst the sun is in the sky! This was the first Potter I saw in the movie theater, and up until the very end I had a blast.

Such vibrancy, such vitality…and such a shame that Richard Harris passed on in 2002. I really dug his low-key Dumbledore. Taking over the role, fellow Irishman Michael Gambon, whose last name is close to "hambone" for a reason. To research the role, Gambon decided not to read any of the books. By and large, that decision would prove unproblematic.

He's far from the only new face. David Thewlis gives a nuanced turn as the unimaginatively-named DADA professor. Or at least he does when he's not in a room with Gary Oldman, whose duck-like approach to eating scenery just fits. When scenes involve pointing a stick at another guy who's pointing a stick of his own you and screaming about a rat betrayed you, why not.

Emma Thompson steps in as Professor Trelawney, channelling an alternate universe Edina Monsoon who worshipped the I Ching and Tarot rather than Vogue and Lacroix. Which makes me wish they'd landed Jennifer Saunders instead, but at least we get Dawn French as the portrait of the Fat Lady.

The film's ambitions forgive most of its venal sins, but then we reach the ending. Harry receives a Firebolt broom, the most high-end fly-wood. He runs outside, hops on and I understand, he saved his godfather's life, he traveled back in time, and now he has this amazingly fast broom, of course he's overjoyed. There had to be a way to express all that to the audience that didn't undercut the increased sophistication Cuaron brought to the project.



BETTER IN YOUR HEAD?
The Dursley stuff isn't getting old in my head, but in front of my face? Haha, fat people!

Snape makes no move to protect the kids from Lupin in the book, considering he's knocked well unconscious. And even he had been upright and alert, he abhors those Gryffindor ne'er-do-wells.

Per canon, Black, Lupin and Snape should all be in their early-to-mid thirties during the events of POA. David Thewlis was 48, Gary Oldman was 53, and Alan Rickman a not-spry 58. Minor nitpick, only because Rickman's so smacking undeniable as Snape, justifying every decision made involving the character.

The man: Steve Kloves. His mission: turn Ron Weasley into useless comic relief while establishing Hermione Granger as the cleverest witch ever to wave a wand. Kloves made no bones 'bout his favorite character, and guess what, we have that in common. My beef with this script (and scripts to come) is how the writer takes pains to elevate the young girl who is already the brightest and most resourceful of the main three. The Hermione in the books is astonishingly intelligent, preternaturally brave, and saves Harry Potter's ass so many times he should get her name tattooed on it. You don't need to prop her up even higher at the expense of another main character.

Forget the classroom chivalry; the moment Ron stands on a broken leg and informs Sirius Black (who he still assumes to be a mass murderer at this point), "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us, too!" is page-punchingly terrific, a divine distillation of what makes Ron Weasley such a wonderful friend to have…and Kloves gives it to Hermione. An injustice on par with having to pay for drinking water. The Time Turner twist, already on my shitlist, becomes even more exasperating when Kloves uses it as another opportunity to turn Ron into a bumbling third banana.




Also, Hermione Granger in the books wouldn't fucking worry about the state of her past self's hair.

But considering from the beginning we see Harry using his wand as a flashlight--y'know, doing magic outside of Hogwarts--it's safe to say Kloves didn't really care about keeping it faithful. Thank you Alfonso Cuaron for at least giving a damn.

MIND THE GAP
Invisibility Cloak vs. Invulnerability Vest, FITE.

"Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways." Hating summer, yearning to do homework? No kiddin', puddin'.

A moving WANTED poster is cool, and two moving WANTED posters cooler still, but do you really need them on pillars six feet apart?

"He might not be very good company, but Remus Lupin's presence in their compartment had its uses." The first time I read this sentence, I became obsessed over how awkward it read. The "might not be" followed by the use of "had." Not a tense shift, but something…off. There is of course nothing off about it, but I swear I spent a good two minutes wondering over that before moving on to the next sentence.

Of course Peter Pettigrew would be the traitor, he's the only of the Marauders whose first name doesn't end in the letter "s."

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